a last kiss
by professortennant
Summary: He cut her off. "It's just that sometimes love isn't enough, is it?" Reaching out with a trembling hand, he brushed the back of his hand over her cheek in a gentle caress. "I'd never ask you to forsake your immortal soul–not for anyone and certainly not for me." He laughed, humorlessly. "I'm not worth it."


"Sometimes you need to bend to the church. And sometimes you want it to bend to you. But it doesn't necessarily work out that way."

He watched as she nervously twisted the ring around her finger. Not for the first time, his heart fell as he watched her struggle choose between him and the Church.

With a heavy heart, he covered her hand with his. The emerald of her ring cut into his hand uncomfortably. "Jean, I don't know how much longer I can ask you to do this; to carry this burden."

She looked at him warily. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled sadly at her, nodding towards her left hand. "I see you pull it off and put it on and twist it around. Love, engagement rings aren't meant to be so heavy."

Jean opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words she wanted to say, opting instead to close it and bite her lip, unshed tears in her eyes. "Lucien, I want to marry you. It's just-"

He cut her off. "It's just that sometimes love isn't enough, is it?" Reaching out with a trembling hand, he brushed the back of his hand over her cheek in a gentle caress. "I'd never ask you to foresake your immortal soul-not for anyone and certainly not for me." He laughed, humorlessly. "I'm not worth it."

Straightening himself up in his chair, he brought her left hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, nose inhaling the sweet, clean scent of her. Jean watched as he reached out and slid the engagement ring off her finger and pressed a kiss to the now-bare skin.

"Lucien, please..."

Dropping her hand, he stood. "I'll always love you, Jeannie. And if you ever decide that you want me back, I'll be right here waiting. But I won't have you hurting like this anymore. Not if I can help it."

She began to cry in earnest, her heart breaking. Anger surged through her: anger at God, at the Church, at their circumstance. It all felt so cruel.

Lucien wiped her tears away, ducking down. "I just need one last kiss, one kiss to get me through the rest of my life. Is that okay, love? Can I have that?"

She nodded, arms already reaching up to loop around his neck and offering her mouth to him. He took everything she offered, readily and greedily. Clutching her to him, he swept his tongue into her mouth and tried to memorize the taste of her: the whiskey from her earlier drink but underneath that, mint and honey and tea.

He tried to memorize the way her hair felt between his fingers: curling and coarse and impossibly soft. He memorized the way she clutched at him in desperation, as if their kiss could change everything. As if they could have happily ever after.

Lucien felt a wetness against his cheek and knew her tears were mingling with his own, crying at the unfairness of it all, at the feel of a breaking heart.

The need for oxygen forced him to pull away from her and he planted kisses over her cheeks, tongue sweeping out to taste the saltiness of her tears. He leaned his forehead against hers, willing his feet to walk away from her before he couldn't, before he changed his mind and damned everything to Hell if it meant having Jean.

He pressed one, last chaste kiss to her lips and forced himself to stand upright and back away. "Goodbye, Jean."

Lucien closed his eyes at the sound of her sob echoing throughout the study and it wasn't until he was alone in his bedroom-the bed he planned on sharing with Jean-that he realized her engagement ring was still clutched in his hand. He looked at the ring, remembering the way Jean's face had lit up when he presented it to her, the way she had nodded her head and whispered _Yes yes yes_ against his lips.

Swallowing harshly, he closed his fist around the ring and turned to his nightstand, opening the drawer and dropping the ring inside. The gentle click of the drawer shutting was nothing compared to the sound of his breaking heart.


End file.
